


Seeya Later, Cupcake

by AcidicRobot



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Clothed Sex, Coitus Interruptus, Cuddling, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Guilt, Hand Jobs, Humor, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Painplay, Multi, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, between rhys and jack, between rhys and ofc, jack takes control of rhys' arm briefly, just someone holding someone else down nothing too freaky, oh yeah that sexual tension sort of gets resolved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-16
Updated: 2019-11-14
Packaged: 2020-01-15 00:37:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18487690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AcidicRobot/pseuds/AcidicRobot
Summary: It's been two weeks since their first kiss, and Rhys and Patch finally have some time alone. Rhys would love it, if it weren't for Jack always interrupting them. It might be easier to deal with the hologram if it weren't for the way Rhys sort of enjoys Jack's attention.Or, Jack is a bastard, Patch is oblivious, and Rhys can't catch a break.





	1. Sanctuary

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moobloom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moobloom/gifts).
  * Inspired by [This is Bigger Than You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18381305) by [moobloom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moobloom/pseuds/moobloom). 



> Hey! So, here are some additional explanations for some of the tags. minor spoilers for the story down below:
> 
> \- No actual sex takes place in this chapter, and when it actually happens i'll update the tags  
> \- The voyeurism refers to Jack watching Rhys and Patch (the ofc) starting to get it on  
> \- It's noncon bc Rhys can't tell him to go away, and Patch is unaware of Jack being there  
> \- Rhys/Jack is tagged bc they have some steamy interactions and there will be more of them later on, but they're not in a relationship and not much takes place in this chapter between them, besides some minor flirting and some implied stuff
> 
> As I upload more chapters, i will update the tags!! If you want me to tag something that isnt there, just let me know. I'm already planning at least two more chapters, which are gonna be explicit and have a lot more Rhys/Jack.
> 
> Patch is a character created by my friend Howdylovelies. If you wanna read more about her, check out Howdy's account!

Getting into sanctuary allows the two of them a moment of quiet, away from the rest of their friends, and all the dangers that come with being on the road. Privacy is hard to come by when you’re sharing a caravan with four other people (sometimes five, for Rhys, but nobody else needs to know that).

So it doesn’t surprise Rhys when Patch wastes no time in leaning up on her toes to kiss him, before the motel door is even shut behind them. He nudges it closed with his foot, trying not to trip over his own feet when Patch presses against him insistently, fists balled in the front of his shirt.

“Patch – “ He’s cut off with her pecking his cheek and then dissolving into giggles, a light blush turning her cheeks pink. He feels himself staring down at her before he’s chuckling too, nervous and not sure where to put his hands. Because they’ve got a room to themselves for the first time, like, _ever_ , and it was about a week ago when they first kissed, and who knows when they’re going to get a moment to themselves again.

Her hands are still curled around his jacket, thumbs rubbing circles into the material, and he feels so fond and content that his nervousness is thrown out the window and he’s resting his arms on her hips. There’s a dirty window on the wall next to them, and the iron bars going across it aren’t Rhys’ idea of romance, but Patch is so warm against him that all he wants to do is sink into the bed and bury his face in her neck and kiss her until they’re both out of breath.

“We should probably uh, close the curtains, right?” she says to him, once she notices him eying the window. Her face gets a bit pinker as she says it, biting her lip with a grin.

“You Pandorans really don’t waste any time, huh?”

“Sh-shut up, jerkwad!” she cries indignantly, taking a step back and punching him playfully on the arm.

“Ouch,” he mumbles, rubbing his shoulder and hoping he doesn’t look too pathetic. She huffs and keeps moving backwards, until her knees hit the back of the bed and she falls down onto it backwards. Her eyes go a bit wide, like she wasn’t expecting it, but then she’s looking back at him and brushing strands of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be such a baby,” she tells him, and starts shuffling her feet back and forth a bit. “Now get over here so we can cuddle. Among other things… _Wink_.”

The idea of cuddling does sound nice, among other things, of course, so he ducks over to close the blinds (admiring Patch’s snicker as he does so), and then turns to the bed. It’s large, just a mattress on a plain metal frame, and the sheets don’t look overly stained but they are sort of old looking and Rhys is often sceptical about most things on Pandora.

He has the right to be, really. The others often make fun of him for complaining all the time, but really he doesn’t complain all that much, and when he does its about things worth complaining about, such as huge, dangerous beasts that could easily crush and/or swallow the caravan whole.

 

“Are you sure that’s clean?” he asks, contemplating scanning it with his EchoEye. “Pandora might have a special species of bedbug or something. Like, ones that are as big as cars. You know how Pandoran wildlife can be.”

She just rolls her eyes, ignoring him completely in favour of patting her lap enthusiastically with both hands. He stares at her for a second, taken aback.

“Uh…” he says, standing in the middle of the small room awkwardly. “What?”

“C’mere!” She pats her lap again, wiggling around to make herself more comfortable where she’s sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You want me to… Sit down. On your lap.”

“Yeah!”

“Really? You want _me_ to sit on _your_ lap. And not the other way around.”

“What’s so hard to understand about that?” Her face falls a bit and then her brow is furrowed in concern. “Are you feeling okay? Did you hit your head or something and not tell me?”

“Wh- No!”

“Oh, okay good,” she tells him, letting out a breath of concern. “Because sometimes it’s kinda hard to tell if you’ve got a concussion or not. Hyperion people are pretty different from your average Pandoran, y’know.”

“Yes, Patch,” he says, and takes a few overly-casual steps to where she is on the bed. “I know that, because I am constantly reminded of it.” He stops once he gets to where she is, looking down at her, once again not sure what to do with himself. Patch must see the hesitation on his face, because a soft hand is reaching out for him and dragging him down onto the bed with her.

He starts falling too quickly, eyes growing wide as he shoots an arm out to catch himself on the mattress before he makes a complete fool of himself. “Oops,” mutters Patch, as Rhys moves a leg onto the bed. “Sorry.” She doesn’t sound very sorry. He tries to hide his pout as he swings another leg up over her lap, face flushing when she hums in glee.

Next to her, he always feels bigger, taller, limbs long and gangly. But now even more so. He doesn’t know where to put his legs, settling for just kneeling over the top of her, his feet resting at the very edge of the bed. It isn’t the most comfortable, because he’s straining to hold himself up and not rest all his weight on Patch’s lap _. This is going to hurt if I keep this up._

“Am I crushing you?” he asks, worried about her petite body underneath him.

“Nope,” she tells him, now oblivious to his concern. Either that, or she just doesn’t care.

Her arms wrap around his lithe frame easily, forearms resting on his thighs, hands splayed over his back. Her fingers are spread out and she lazily rubs his back through his jacket. He feels too big and clumsy, but her arms are comforting, and her smile encouraging.

“Uh…” He clears his throat, leaning back on his haunches to look at her properly. “Can I kiss you?”

She nods enthusiastically, tilting her head back and angling herself towards him. He leans down and meets her, pressing their lips together and cupping her face with a hand, closing his eyes. The kissing is familiar, and Rhys thinks that maybe sitting on her lap isn’t the silliest thing in the world, because he’s still got a few inches on her and its almost as if they were standing. _Except, y’know, you’re sitting in her lap. Which, hey, come to think of it, isn’t too bad. No wonder girls like doing this so much. Is that weird? Probably not._

That whole line of thought is derailed when he feels her hands sliding down his back, and a cheeky smile against his mouth, and her small hands are squeezing his ass. He makes a noise of surprise, then smiles into the kiss, lowering himself into her lap firmly. She puts a hand on his thigh encouragingly, and he takes it as a sign to grind his hips down, deciding to throw his remaining scraps of pride to the wind.

“Damn, cupcake! Didn’t really peg you as the cowgirl type.”

Rhys’ eyes fly open, squeaking into Patch’s mouth. His limbs flail for a second as he leaps back, still kneeling over Patch. His vision is instantly drawn to the bright blue hologram standing a few feet away, arms crossed and a dumb, shit-eating grin on his stupid handsome face.

“Well,” Jack adds, looking thoughtful. “Actually, yeah. I did. I mean, she tells you to get on her lap, and you don’t even hesitate? Can’t say I’m surprised, Rhysie.”

Rhys tries to put as much distance between himself and Jack as possible, caught off guard and humiliated. “God-“ Whatever Rhys was planning on saying next is cut off with a yell as he falls backwards, off the bed and off of Patch. There’s the horrible feeling of falling through the air and then his back is hitting the hard floor.

He’s winded, clenching his eyes shut. He registers Jack cackling at him, and Patch leaping off the bed, sounding panicked and confused. He gasps in air, wincing at the pain in his limbs and the overall feeling of breathlessness. His head is hurting, which is more from annoyance and embarrassment than any physical injury.

When he cracks his eyes open again, he’s staring at the water-stained ceiling, and Patch and Jack are both leaning over him. Patch is giving him a look of concern, hands hovering over his body, and Jack looks sleazy and amused as always. When their eyes meet for a second, Rhys tears his gaze back away to look at the roof, and Jack starts chuckling lowly _. Smug bastard._

“Rhys?” Patch is tentative, stray pieces of her hair hanging down over her face. “Are you okay? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, uh, s-squeezed your butt like that – “

Rhys doesn’t get to hear what she says next because Jack barks out a sudden laugh that has Rhys wincing.

“Oh my _god_ ,” he says, pointing his thumb back at an oblivious Patch. “She won’t even say ‘ass’. And you two were gonna _bang_?”

“Oh, gross,” Rhys mutters, feeling deeply uncomfortable. Jack had a habit of popping up at the most inconvenient times, and Rhys should have known better than to have hoped for a few hours of quiet time, just him and Patch.

“Is your head hurt?” Patch has placed the back of her hand to his forehead, as if trying to see if he has a fever. “Rhys, I am _so_ sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

“No, Patch,” he says, trying so hard to only focus on her and not Jack, who is very close right now. “It wasn’t you, I just, uh… Don’t feel good right now.”

It’s a shitty lie and he’s worried she’ll see right through it, what with being one of the few “doctors” in Pandora that he’s come across. But she just nods in understanding, lips thin from the way she’s pressing them together in worry.

“Maybe we could just… Not do this tonight?” It pains him to say it, because who knows when they’ll get another opportunity for some, ahem, _alone time_ together. But he really doesn’t want their first time together to be with Handsome Jack in the room, and it’s made even worse with the fact that Patch doesn’t even know he’s there.

He watches as Jack throws his arms in the air in disappointment. “Aw, come on, Rhys, don’t be a prude! The show was just getting started!”

That makes the heat in his cheeks grow even worse, the idea of Jack actually enjoying watching the two of them. Rhys thinks back on the past few minutes and wonders how long Jack was standing there silently, watching the way Rhys sat in her lap, the way they kissed. If he saw Patch grab his ass, if he noticed how Rhys desperately grinded his hips into her thighs –

“That’s okay,” Patch is saying, her hand resting on his. “If I’m being honest, seeing you fall flat on your butt kinda ruined the mood.”

“Okay, well, it wasn’t my ass, it was my back. I thought you were supposed to be some medical professional, you can’t even tell the difference between my ass and my back?”

She laughs at that, kneeling and then standing, holding onto his hand to help him up alongside her. “We can just cuddle,” she says, and as an afterthought she leans up on her toes and plants a small kiss on his cheek. He ignores the exaggerated noise of disgust that Jack makes somewhere behind them.

Cuddling he can do. Jack has already seen them cuddling, just on the couch in the caravan together, and that’s probably boring enough that Jack will piss back off to wherever he goes when he isn’t busy annoying Rhys.

He moves to sit down on the bed, but looks back up at Patch to see that she’s unbuttoning her coat. He watches in horror, hoping she’ll stop there, but then she starts pulling off her shirt, too.

“Oh,” Jack pipes up, “now _this_ is more like it.”

“Uh,” Rhys says, probably a bit louder than he needs to be. He scrambles over the bed to get to Patch, putting his hands over the top of hers to prevent her from taking her shirt off completely. “What- What are you doing?”

She just stares at him like he’s an idiot. It’s a look he gets often. “Uhm… Taking my clothes off?”

It’s a dumb answer to a dumb question, but Rhys doesn’t mention that. “Yeah but- I thought we were just, y’know, cuddling.”

“We are,” she assures him, as sweet as ever, “its just kinda hot and these clothes are kinda dirty so… We’d both be more comfortable if we just took ‘em off.”

“Yeah, Rhys, her clothes are dirty.” Jack has made his way over to stand behind Patch, not trying to hide the way his eyes go up and down her body. “If the girl wants to take her clothes off then I say we should let her!”

 _We_. A shiver goes down Rhys’ spine.

He wants to hiss back that Jack has no say in this, but Patch would notice for sure, and she can be a bit dense sometimes but she isn’t _that_ stupid. Most of the time.

“Let me,” he says instead, hoping he looks more composed than he feels. He nudges his fingers at the hem of her shirt, until she moves her hands away and he can start sliding the top up her skinny chest. He really only offered to undress her so that she could shield her from Jack’s gaze, which still looks like that of a starving animal, but it doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate the way it feels to move his hands up her body and watch her skin be revealed to him.

He wants to take his time but the sooner she’s undressed, the sooner she can be under the covers and away from Jack. The man in question must have caught on to what Rhys is doing, because he’s shaking his head in annoyance, voice taking on a sharp tone.

“Rhys,” he starts, sighing, “I’m not tryna steal her away from you, honest. I mean, she isn’t even my type, but _hey_ , I’m not picky! Can’t a man just admire some artwork every now and then?”

Rhys doesn’t even give Jack a glance, just twists Patch around in his arms until he’s between her and Jack. He flings her shirt onto the ground, hearing her giggle and say something about having to tidy up later, and moves to take off her skirt. The buttons are fiddly, and he has to lean down a bit to see what he’s doing. Patch hums and puts her hand in his hair, and when the skirt drops to the ground she steps out of it, flicking it across the room with her foot.

“So,” she murmurs, turning to face him. That cheeky smile is back on her face. “You gonna take yours off, or what?”

Rhys doesn’t really know what to say, too lost in the gentle curves of her waist and how soft her thighs look, but then there’s a fuzzy sensation in his vision and when it clears up, he sees Jack has gone back behind her and is leaning down to get a better look at her ass.

Rhys’ mind goes blank and he acts without thinking, scooping Patch up in his arms and dashing over to the bed. Patch gasps and lets out a whoop, giggling at the way he drops her onto the mattress and hurriedly climbs in with her. He’s tearing the covers back and then covering the both of them with it. He’s breathing heavily at the end of it. The blush on his face still hasn’t gone away.

“What was _that_?” she asks, giggling and flustered. “Kinda spazzed out on me back there, Hyperion. Didn’t even know you were strong enough to lift me.”

“You barely weigh anything,” he remarks, just relieved that she’s hidden away from Jack. He isn’t jealous, really. Well. Maybe he is, but the thought of Patch being seen by a complete stranger, who she doesn’t even know is in the room, makes his skin crawl. Well, they all know who Handsome Jack is, which probably only makes it worse.

“So… You gonna undress or what? Cause you look cool and all but your clothes are all dusty and I’m pretty sure there’s, uh, fresh blood on your sleeve, so…”

“Oh.” He has to get undressed to. “Right.” In front of Jack.

Jack must be thinking the same thing. “Come on, Rhys,” he goads, at the very edge of Rhys’ peripheral vision. “Not like I haven’t seen it all before. Well, seen _most_ of it.”

Rhys hates that Jack is correct, technically. It would be hard not to see Rhys naked, considering they’re stuck together at all times. Rhys is still hesitant, though, even as he shuffles under the covers so he can step out of the bed. Patch turns to watch him, face half-hidden in the crook of her bare shoulder. Her bra strap looks sort of worn, like it would be so easy to just lean over and rip it off her entirely –

 _Oh, come on, dude. Focus. No sexytim_ es. The last thing you need right now is a boner to add to the whole mess of today.

He opens up his jacket and slides it down his shoulders, hanging it on the bedpost. As he does so, he kicks off his shoes, stumbling over his own feet and nearly tripping over, arms flailing.

“Nice one, slick,” Jack drawls, at the same time Patch laughs in amusement.

“ _Shut up_ ,” Rhys replies, stuck halfway between resentment and fondness.

His shoes are shoved aside, leaving behind his colourful socks that (thankfully) nobody comments on. His tie is loosened, joining the pile of clothes, and then he starts on unbuttoning his shirt. He opens it up, feeling the air hit his chest, which is a relief after the stifling heat of Pandora. His fingers falter when Jack lets out a loud whistle, and he shoots him a quick glare from across the room, balling up his shirt and throwing it at him. Rhys is pleased when Jack disappears for a second, and then shows up a second later looking mildly annoyed, but mainly amused.

Rhys gets rid of the pants quickly, shoving them down his long legs and trying not to get them stuck on his feet. He’s sure that if it was possible, Jack would lean over and smack his ass, just to see him jump.

“Not too shabby, cupcake,” Jack quips, making Rhys’ stomach churn. Jack is an asshole, its undeniable, but Rhys still feels guilty at the way that his chest warms up at the praise he’s given. Maybe the fact that Jack is Pandora’s biggest asshole is what makes the compliment feel so special, not to mention that Jack was (and arguably still is) Rhys’ idol. The guilt mixes inside of him alongside something else, something darker and more confusing, and he chooses to ignore it in favour of cuddling with Patch.

He wastes no time going back to bed, pushing Patch aside gently so that he could crawl in under the covers. He lets out a breath, and _hey, this bed is actually pretty comfortable_. Small arms wrap around him, and there’s another kiss planted on his cheek, and then his neck. He huffs a laugh, kissing her temple, as they twist around until Patch has her back pressed up against his bare chest.

“Hey Rhys,” she mumbles sleepily, “’m gonna take a nap… Just wake me up if you’re dying, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” he mumbles back, pressing his face into her blonde hair. She’s so warm, like the heaters back on Helios, but more comforting and certainly more huggable.

“Aw,” Jack says from where he’s standing in front of them, arms crossed. “Isn’t this sweet. Maybe I’ll just leave you two lovebirds alone. Gotta get your beauty sleep, Rhys. Not that you need it, of course.”

 Rhys silently raises his metal arm, flipping Jack off. He expects Jack to laugh in his face, make another rude gesture back. But instead he just stares for a moment, faint smile on his face, before he winks and the hologram starts flickering.

“Seeya later, cupcake.”

And then Jack is gone, and Rhys is left alone with Patch pressed against him and an uncomfortable feeling in his gut.


	2. Caravan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It isn't long before Rhys and Patch find themselves alone together. Again. 
> 
> Or, they try banging in the caravan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Another chapter, which means more tags added and all that stuff. Once again, if you want me to add any tags that aren't already there, just lemme know and i'll be glad to put them up.
> 
> Rating was changed because some explicit stuff happens in this chapter.

Thankfully, it isn’t long before Rhys and Patch find themselves alone together. Again.

Well. Not really. It’s more that the two of them have reached a breaking point and decided that banging in the caravan was worth the risk. Rhys reasons that Jack had already caught them about to go at it, so it wouldn’t be the end of the world if Sasha or Fiona or Vaughn accidentally heard something they didn’t want to hear.

Actually, he’s really hoping that nobody overhears them, because he doesn’t need that embarrassment and he knows nobody would ever let him live that down. Getting teased by Jack is one thing, but the others would all be able to team up against him. They can be downright ruthless sometimes, and he’d be lying if he said that his self-esteem hadn’t taken a blow every now and then, but –

He has to focus because the caravan is currently empty, aside from Patch who is hurriedly unbuttoning her jacket, and it’s only a matter of time until someone gets back and interrupts them. Rhys expects half an hour maximum until the others are done with whatever they’re doing in Hollowpoint, which doesn’t leave a lot of time for the two of them.

“So, uh,” he starts casually, loosening his tie, trying to hide his nervous fidgeting. “Are you a… Virgin? That’s probably something I should’ve asked before our first botched attempt, but better late than never, I guess.”

The question must catch her off-guard because she stumbles over her feet, despite standing still, and her cheeks grow pink. “Uhh.”

“It’s cool if you are! Or if you aren’t! I don’t really know if there’s like, stereotypes on Pandora about that. But really, you’re perfect the way you are, uh- I mean- was that weird? Tell me if I’m being weird.”

“You’re always weird,” she assures him, before backing him up against the wall and putting her hands on his chest. They’re in the dressing room, which Rhys guesses is an invasion of privacy for Sasha and Fiona, but it’s their safest option. Behind the partition, Patch could easily say she was just getting changed in the event of an intrusion. Ignorance is bliss, anyways, and the girls can’t be hurt by what they don’t know.

Her hand loosens his tie the rest of the way, opening up his shirt and tracing her metal fingertips over his collarbone. “And I’m not a virgin,” she confesses, not as flustered as she was before. “It’s mainly just been with, uh, girls, though. Don’t got a whole lot of experience when it comes to dudes. What about you?”

The information doesn’t surprise him, especially after seeing the way Patch acts around Moxxi. “Same here,” he says casually, trying his best to sound cool. “Had a girlfriend at one point. Except she wasn’t Pandoran, so that’s a big difference. I’m not gonna get any weird surprises, right?”

“Why don’t you come touch me and find out?”

He doesn’t know if that was her trying to be sexy or funny, so he stifles his laugh and kisses her behind the ear, trailing his lips down her neck until he’s sucking at the bare skin of her shoulder. He’s surprisingly okay with not being able to take his time, mainly because he does not want to be interrupted, and the past couple of days have been full of sexual tension and it feels like he’s bursting at the seams.

She sighs, eyes falling closed, but then her hand is in his hair and is yanking him away. He makes a noise of protest which ends up sounding closer to a moan, and huh, I didn’t know I was into that.

“Let’s sit down,” she tells him, pulling at his tie until they’re on the floor, his back against the wall. This time, _she’s_ the one straddling _his_ lap, and he feels himself getting hard in his pants at the way she feels heavy and warm on top of him. Her butt rests on his thighs, so close to his crotch that he can feel the heat radiating off her. Her skirt has ridden up her own thighs, leaving an expanse of pale skin, and the edges of her blue panties visible.

When she’s seated properly, she cups the back of his head and eagerly guides him back to her neck, making noises of frustration for every second he doesn’t spend kissing her skin. Rhys is happy to oblige, licking along her collarbone, spurred on by the soft moans that she makes every time he scrapes his teeth on her skin. She laughs breathily, right next to his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“So what exactly is the objective here?” she asks, fingers playing with his hair. He moves away from her reluctantly, lips shiny.

“Uh, get eachother off?”

“Well yeah, but how? I don’t think we have enough time to go all the way.”

“Oh, right. Uhh…” He thinks for a moment, and then lifts up his hand. His metal one. The two of them both stare at it, and then stare at eachother. Rhys raises an eyebrow slowly at her, and is met with a look of contemplation. Patch glances down at her own metal hand, humming in thought.

“Maybe some other time,” she decides, flexing her prosthetic fingers. “I don’t really want tetanus just from a rushed handjob.”

“So you’ve already decided on a handjob?”

“With our real hands, though. Obviously.”

Now that he has some guidance on where to take it next, he decides to move both his hands up her legs, starting at her knees and trailing his palms upwards. She had taken off her bags and accessories already, meaning that there wasn’t anything left in his way. When he gets to her thighs he squeezes gently, nails digging into her skin, and he notices the way she grinds herself down onto him. _Oh God._ He’s so hard its almost painful, and being able to feel how hot she is through her underwear makes his dick ache.

“More,” she breathes, her own hands holding onto his shoulders tightly. Whenever he moves, her fingers twitch and grip a bit harder, like she’s trying to hold herself back from reaching under her skirt and touching herself. Just the thought of it has him raking his blunt nails down the sides of her legs, his breathing heavy at the way that Patch rocks against him desperately. He angles his thigh upward, and its only a moment  later that Patch has moved her hands from his shoulders to his legs. Her arms are positioned in front of her, gripping his thigh just below his waistband, using it as leverage to grind against him.

He feels his face grow impossibly hotter at how he can feel how slick she is, even through a layer of clothing. He’s frozen, watching the way she moves back and forth, hips bucking occasionally when she hits a sensitive spot. Her hair frames her flushed face, chest heaving, he can see the outline of her nipples through her black shirt. The window in the front of it is so low, he could just pull at the fabric with his fingers and let her breasts free.

Breathy panting fills the air as her mouth hangs open, lips swollen and pink. Her tongue looks so soft, he can’t help but surge forward and kiss her, swallowing up her moans. He pulls back quickly, intending to reach down and pull her skirt up even more, but a strange fuzziness in his vision gives him pause.

“Hey there, cupcake.”

Rhys’ eyes go wide as they land on Handsome Jack, who’s standing near the opening to the partition that separates him and Patch from the rest of the room. She’s still rutting against him, her metal arm moving slowly up her body and towards her chest.

“Don’t look so surprised!” Jack’s voice is low but playful as he takes a few steps forward, closer to Rhys. “I said I’d be back, didn’t I?”

Unlike last time, Rhys isn’t shocked or humiliated enough to leap backwards and call it all off. He’s still hard, and Patch is on top of him practically begging for Rhys to touch her, and there’s no way he’s gonna let Jack mess with him enough to go and deal with his boner all by himself.

So he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even spare Jack a second glance. Just goes back to Patch, and moves his hands up her skirt. He plays with the edge of her underwear briefly, and he wants so badly to starts touching her right where she wants it, but instead he lifts up the front of her skirt. She instantly moves her own hand to hold it up, clutching at the orange fabric with her lithe fingers.

Her blue underwear are close to soaked, the fabric darker in the very centre. A sliver of her stomach is visible, and if Rhys were a bit more flexible he would lean down and kiss it.

“Is that how you’re playing it?” Jack’s voice is closer now. “Just gonna ignore me? I don’t really blame you if I’m being honest, I’d ignore me too if I had a hot piece of ass like that riding me.”

Rhys rolls his eyes and silently wills Jack to disappear, because the commentary is _very_ unnecessary. He settles his hands on her hips, his flesh one moving closer to her underwear, until he dips the tips of his fingers around her underwear and into her warm centre.

“ _Oh_!” She responds to it instantly, sinking down further, balling up her skirt and pressing it down close to her stomach. “M-More.”

He does as asked and starts moving his fingers more insistently, rubbing circles around her clit and then moving back to press at her wet entrance. There’s practically no resistance, and it slides in easily, Patch letting out a broken moan and Rhys sighing at the way she clenches around him. All he can think about is how good she would feel if he was fucking her _for real,_ their hips moving together, moaning into eachothers mouths -

“Wait, wait,” she stammers, and he stops immediately, blood going cold. Oh god, did I hurt her? Of course I would fuck this up, should have just waited until you could take your time. “I gotta take care of you too.”

“Oh.” _Oh._ He watches as she leans forward to undo his zipper, and he’s now made even more painfully aware of how hard he is, dick pressing up against his pants. After a second of fiddling, Patch is able to reach into his underwear and pull him out, and even just her dry hand is enough to have him feeling fucking _fantastic_ , and he realises that he really _isn’t_ going to last long at all.

Her soft hands stroke him a few times, before she stops, and he’s about to make a whine of complaint when he sees her move her hand to her own underwear. He doesn’t really see what happens, but a second later her hand is back on him, but this time it’s slick and his hips buck upwards at the realisation.

“ _Oh_ , God, _Patch_!” he cries out, aware that he sounds needy and that’s because he is. Her fingers wrap around him almost perfectly, and its so warm and wet that it has Rhys closing his eyes and tilting his head back until it thuds gently against the caravan wall.

“C’mon, Rhys,” Patch is saying, sounding just as needy as he is. “Gosh, I’m so close, please – “

He moves his hand without thinking, two long fingers sliding inside of her and curling immediately. Her breath hitches in surprise and then she’s mewling, the hand around his dick moving a bit faster, even if her technique is sort of lacking. The angle for his hand is weird, so he removes his fingers and goes to wrap one arm around her.

“Uh,” his voice is so raspy, practically breathless, “can you lean forward?”

Patch does so without questioning why, too focused on getting his fingers back inside of her. A hand still on him, she lifts her butt up and rests her forehead on his shoulder. It’s exactly what he wanted, and means that he can easily see her back and the curve of her ass. He lifts her skirt up again, keeping it still with his metal arm, and is nudging her underwear aside until he can sink the fingers back into her. He can’t see her crotch completely, but he can see the way his palm is shiny with her wetness. _Oh damn, that’s hot, that is ridiculously hot._

His vision goes fuzzy again and there’s an itching under his skin. He expects Jack to pop up right behind Patch, observe the way Rhys’ fingers pump in and out of her quickly. But instead, the hologram settles right next to him, turning towards him, and it feels way to intimate, makes his dick throb in a way that he doesn’t want to think too hard about.

There’s a knock at the door, and all three of them freeze. Patch slaps her hand over Rhys’ mouth, bolting upwards with a terrified look on her face.

“Hello?” That’s Sasha’s voice, followed by more quick knocking. “Patch, are you in there?”

“Yeah!” Patch shouts back, hoping its loud enough that Sasha can hear it through the partition and the scrapmetal door. “I’m just – I’m changing!”

Rhys isn’t sure whether Sasha will call bullshit, but hopes that she will just leave it at that and go, because Rhys still has his fingers buried inside of Patch. Quietly, he twists his fingers, and doesn’t miss the squeak she lets out. She glares at him, but her face is still pink and she’s biting her lip so hard that it looks like it’s about to bleed.

“Oh, okay,” Sasha calls, and now Rhys is moving his fingers quickly, even though its goddamn dangerous and he doesn’t want to get caught. But the way she tenses up around him, trying so hard not to make a noise, its enough to make him keep going. “Just don’t take too long, okay?”

Patch opens her mouth in a silent yell, eyebrows furrowed. “ _Yep_!” Her voice is strained, and immediately after saying it, she’s back to shaking silently and rocking back onto his fingers.

Just the sight of her silently coming apart is enough to make Rhys whimper quietly.

“Oh, _Rhys_ ,” Jack murmurs, sounding delighted at how debauched the other man is. Rhys squeezes his eyes shut, trying to block out the blue light that Jack exudes, so he can focus on the way Patch is moving her hand up and down his shaft so fast that he’s almost seeing stars. He hears Jack sigh, clearly fed up with being ignored.

“You _clearly_ don’t want me here,” he states, standing up and waving his arms around in some over-the-top gesture. “Which I’ve gotta say, really hurts my feelings. But I’m gonna cut you some slack so that you can get your rocks off. Because trust me, kid, you _need_ it.”

With Jack gone (probably), Rhys goes back to fingering Patch, his metal hand resting on the swell of her ass. She’s taken the hand away from his mouth and is using it to hold onto him for support, panting heavily like a dog without water.

“Fuck, _Rhys_ ,” she moans quietly, and hearing her swear like that makes his dick ache, “I’m so close, _please_ , please don’t stop…”

He moves faster, trying to get as deep inside her as possible, and rakes his other hand over the soft skin of her thighs, leaving red marks behind. It makes her sink down onto him even more insistently.

She’s so wet that he can hear it with every thrust he makes with his hand, and then she’s spasming around him, like a vice around his fingers. She muffles her cry in his shoulder, her grip on him getting momentarily tighter. Feeling her come while he’s inside her is what pushes him over the edge, bucking up into her palm, hips jerking into the air as her hand is covered in white fluid. It wracks his body in waves, leaving him feeling warm and sweaty and overall _awesome_.

When the stars in his vision clear, he remembers to take his fingers out of her gently, his arms feeling sore and ache-y from the strange angle. The air is hot and stifling, their breathing heavy, but he’s slowly brought back into himself when Patch wriggles around on top of him and starts laughing softly.

“That… Was really good. Wow.”

Rhys can’t help but laugh alongside her, nuzzling her neck with his nose. “Yeah, that was kind of… Great.” He watches Patch sit back a bit, wincing as she does so. He frowns in concern, “You alright?”

“I’m fine,” she assures him, “I am way more than fine. Legs just kind of hurt, is all.”

“Me too.”

“How can your legs hurt? You were just sitting down the whole time.”

“Yeah, well you basically riding my thigh doesn’t count as ‘just sitting down’, so.”

“Oh my _Gosh_ , go die mad about it I guess!”

He grins at her petulance, knowing she isn’t really angry, and they help each other clamber to their feet. Rhys wants nothing more than to sink into a bed or couch with her, or even just stay here tangled in her arms, but it won’t be long until someone else would come knocking. He sighs, but feels better when she gives him a bright smile from behind messy strands of blonde hair.

They wipe off their hands on one of the cloths that Patch keeps in her bags, and everything feels alright in the world.


	3. Sanctuary, Revisited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhys and Patch go all the way. Also, Jack is there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall! Reminder that Patch is an OC created by Moobloom, who also has a story on her account with Patch! The fic youre currently reading isnt canon or anything, just something fun !   
> so the tags that were added this chapter were the sex acts and stuff, and i added dubcon cause in this chapter things get even steamier and Jack sort of gets involved with Rhys and Patch physically. painplay is mild, just some scratching and biting, and the bondage is nothing super extreme. I also deleted a few old tags to properly reflect this chapter.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! Leave a comment if you think i should tag something.

That’s how things go for a few more days. Time for themselves isn’t something that they have a lot of, so they take what they can get. It mostly involves pulling each other aside whenever there’s a moment of quiet, hurried kisses and handjobs in dark corners of buildings and hidden behind wrecked cars.

It’s nice, being with Patch is _always_ nice, but Rhys is sure that he’s getting grey hairs from all the times they’ve almost been walked in on. One time they _did_ get walked in on, when they were halfway through a steamy makeout session between some boulders, but it was just a psycho who promptly shot himself in the head after screaming out something about death trains and his kitty-cat. Rhys had been close to shitting his pants, boner long-gone, but Patch had just giggled and gone back to feeling up his chest.

Rhys is almost certain that every moment he spends on Pandora is lowering his lifespan drastically. No amount of Patch’s medical expertise can save him from a stress-related heart attack.

Jack has been… Surprisingly quiet. _Suspiciously_ quiet. Occasionally he’ll crack jokes afterwards, or tease Rhys when he’s together with the rest of the gang, but after that first time in sanctuary, he hasn’t been as much of a bother as Rhys would have thought. Apparently ignoring Jack was all it took to get some alone time with Patch.

He’s hoping that this trip to Sanctuary will go better than last time.

When they get to their room, Rhys is quick to start unbuttoning his jacket and kick his shoes off. He hears Patch snicker and the door slam shut, and then her hands are settling on his shoulders. He turns around to face her, his hands coming to a stop when he sees her smirk. _God she’s cute._

“You don’t have to rush it , y’know,” she reminds him, hands trailing down his arms to settle on his own hands. “We can actually take it slow this time.”

He’s still staring at her, her words only registering after a moment. He shakes his head. “Right,” he says, dumbly. “Right, yeah, of course. Just take it _slow_.”

She laughs, swaying their hands. “You’re a weirdo, Rhys.”

“Yeah, well so are y-“

Before he can finish his awesome comeback, Patch leans up to kiss him. Her lips are chapped from the harsh Pandoran sun, but soft against his. He leans into it, instinctively resting his arms on her hips. Despite her reprimanding him for hurrying, she’s picking up the pace, biting at his lower lip and pressing insistently against him.

They have to pull away eventually, breathing heavily, a blush high on their cheeks.

“Is it hot in here?” Rhys mumbles, not sure whether to look at her mouth or her eyes or the pink spreading over her face. “I’m kind of hot, are you hot?”

“Yeah,” she says, apparently facing the same dilemma as her eyes flit over his face. “These clothes are probably making us hotter.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well I guess we should do something about that.”

“We probably should.”

They blink at each other, and Rhys is the first to crack a smile, followed closely by Patch. He goes to start undoing her jacket, praying that his own hands don’t get in the way of his work. She holds her hands at her sides, watching him with an eager smile on her face. As if struck by a sudden thought, she also leapt into action, starting to tug at Rhys’ shirt.

At one point, they end up tangled in each other’s sleeves, but once they’re free from their clothing they turn to each other. He cups her face and brings himself down to kiss her again. He was always a little bit surprised that she didn’t taste like everything else on Pandora (dusty, bitter, and like it wasn’t meant for human consumption).

His eyes fly open when he feels something solid and cool against his back, sluggishly realising Patch had backed him up against a wall. It was like his mind was slowly turning to mush. Her hands rake over his chest, and she smiles at the way he shivers. She moves her hands down lower, over the flat expanse of his stomach, until her fingertips brush his belt.

Rhys watches her start to sink lower, until she’s kneeling down in front of him, her palms on his hips keeping him pinned to the wall. His mouth goes dry at the sight of her, as well as the view he has down her bra.

As her hands skirt around the hem of his pants, he feels his heart stutter in his chest, the flush on his chest start to grow darker because he really likes how she looks right now. She darts a glance up at him (God she’s cute, and hot), and then she’s undoing his belt, and then –

His pants are pulled down rapidly, right to his ankles, and Patch is cackling as she dashes to the bed and throws herself onto it, leaving Rhys against the wall, hard, wanting, and pants-less.

The suddenness of it all is disorienting. He only catches onto it when he sees that the space in front of him is empty, and the space on the bed is filled with a laughing Patch. She’s pointing at him, snorting in only her skirt and bra. Normally he would find her gorgeous, and of course he still does,  but right now all he can do is glare at her.

“What, you think that’s funny?” he asks, pouting. She nods vigorously, scooting to the edge of the bed to slip her socks off. He sighs exaggeratedly, starting to kick his legs out in an attempt to throw his pants off. They get caught around his ankles and he comes close to stumbling, to the amusement of Patch.

“You look like a real doofus,” she chimes, now cross-legged and watching raptly.

“Would you shut up?” He stumbles around the room, drawing his legs up close to his chest to try and drag the clothing off and away from his ankles. “It’s your fault I’m in this predicament in the first place.”

“Okay, smart guy.”

By the time he finally gets his pants off, he’s out of breath, and Patch is cracking a lot of wise for someone who isn’t known as an intellectual. She’s too distracted with her own teasing that she doesn’t immediately notice Rhys striding over to her, letting out a yelp when he throws her down onto the bed and presses his lips against hers.

After the initial shock, she relaxes, melting into the bed and moving along with him. She makes a small pleased sound under him, throwing her arms around his neck to keep him where he is. He knows he’ll have to come up for air eventually, but if Patch decided to smother him and he would die kissing her, he doesn’t think he would mind.

He feels her legs part under him, settling on either side of his hips. He breathes in sharply at the sensation of her bare skin brushing against his, at the way he slots so perfectly against her. Pushing his hips forward, he makes a noise of annoyance when he feels her skirt instead of the soft skin of her thighs.

“Ugh. Again? You two are like rabbits, I swear.”

Rhys whips his head around at the sudden drawl, but already knows who it is. He’ll admit that the appearance of Jack is mildly surprising, given that he hasn’t usually shown up immediately before Rhys and Patch get down and funky. But he decides not to pay him any mind; if Rhys doesn’t react, then Jack will just go away like he has before.

His time and energy can be spent in better ways, such as removing Patch’s skirt. She giggles as he pulls back to kneel at her feet, fingers catching in the hem of her skirt and pulling it down her milky thighs. He takes a moment to just look at her, lying in only her underwear and bra, faint tanlines running across her skin. The leg running up his side is a reminder that he can do more than just look, and he immediately goes to start kissing along her collarbone, throwing her skirt aside.

“Just gonna ignore me?” Jack remarked from right beside him, sounding jealous enough that it was almost comical. “What does she even have that I don’t!”

Rhys rolled his eyes from where he was buried in her neck. His teeth graze against her skin and she writhes up against him, pushing her chest forward. In a stroke of genius, her hand comes up to push her bra strap down her shoulder, and Rhys slides one arm under her to undo it. He pulls away from her, taking the garment with him, getting distracted at the sight of her bare chest.

“Well. Besides a pair of rockin’ tits, of course.”

Rhys’ hands pause mid-air, still holding her tattered bra. He thought that Jack would’ve been gone by now; his presence, combined with a blushing almost-naked Patch is enough to make him speechless. He swallows, heart beating hard in his chest.

“She’s really pretty, Rhys,” Jack muses, now lounging at the top of the bed close to Patch’s head, right in Rhys’ line of sight. “You lucked out on her. What I would give to be able to touch her.”

Rhys comes back to his senses enough to shoot a glare at the other man, his resolve slowly cracking. He descends on Patch again, who laughs breathlessly and threads her hands through his dishevelled hair. Her chest moves rhythmically with each breath, stuttering as he presses kisses along her neck and down her shoulders, leaving marks on her soft chest.  

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathes suddenly, her knee moving up against the outside of his body, “God, _Rhys_!”

His brow furrows only slightly, confused about what he did that made her react. It isn’t until he notices his shoulder shifting that he sees his metal arm leaving marks down her thigh, eyes widening when he catches Jack out of the corner of his eye.

He sees a blue fuzz around the base of his metal arm, following it up to see that Jack has taken control of it, the hologram settling right behind him. Rhys blinks, trapped between Jack pressed up against him and Patch canting her hips upward at the feeling of his metal hand on her leg.

“What’s the matter, Rhys?” The proximity of the voice catches him by surprise, low and rumbling right behind him. “Don’t wanna share?”

It’s wrong, he knows it’s wrong, everything about this is messed up but Rhys feels himself grow warmer and get even harder. He watches as metal fingers dig into the soft skin of her thigh, Jack dragging the hand down, leaving behind white lines of pressure.

“You, uh,” he stammers, watching her chest heave. “You like that?”

Patch nods immediately, her blonde hair scattered around the pillow she’s resting on. There’s an intense blush high on her cheeks, as well as over the top of her breasts and the very tips of her ears. She squirms with every movement of his arm; the sight of her makes his mouth go dry.

Her legs move outward, and as her thighs spread he sees how soaked her underwear are.

“C’mon, kid,” Jack urges from behind him, the metal arm slowly making it’s way to her inner thigh. “She’s practically begging you here.”

Fingers circle around the dark fabric, only light teases that make Patch whine and spread her legs even further. Rhys feels so hard that he’s convinced he’s gonna die if he doesn’t fuck her right this second -

“Wait, shit, sorry,” he exclaims as he pulls away from her, stumbling back over to his pants. The metal arm refuses to go at first, put he yanks it back close to him, to the disagreement of both Jack and Patch.

“What?” Patch looks irritated but too dazed to seem malicious. She sits upward clumsily, locks of hair falling over her face.

“Yeah,” Jack adds, almost more upset than Patch, “what’s the holdup for!”

“I just need…” He rifles through his pockets, swatting at the metal hand that keeps trying to pinch him. “Aha!”

He twists around to face the girl in bed, triumphantly holding a single condom. She stares, brows furrowed.

“Can’t you just pull out?”

The prideful grin falls off his face immediately as he gapes at her.

“…You are a _doctor_!” he exclaims in disbelief.

“So?”

“Have you been telling people that they can just pull out?”

She rolls her eyes, groaning impatiently. “Whatever! Just get back over here.”

Rhys shakes his head the whole time he wanders over. “One day someone is gonna ask to see your medical license and – “

He’s almost knocked off his feet when Patch grabs him by the shoulders and throws him down onto the mattress, swinging her legs over him and seating herself on his lap. Rhys isn’t sure whether the impact knocked the wind out of his lungs, or if it was the feel of her pressing against his dick through his underwear.

She bats the condom out of his hand and leans down to kiss him, her ass in the air. Her kisses are hungry now, she’s run out of patience and Rhys knows she won’t let him tease her anymore.

He makes a sharp noise of surprise when her tongue enters his mouth, her teeth brushing against his bottom lip.

“You like how she feels on top of you, Rhys?” Jack purrs from beside him, smug because he knows that Rhys is getting off because of him. “You like it when someone takes control?”

He moans into her mouth, feeling his eyebrows knit together. He shifts, tries to move his arms, but finds that his metal arm is pinned to the bed. He struggles against it, not because he wants to get up, but because he wants to feel the way Jack holds him down. It’s so easy to close his eyes and picture the two of them, Patch riding him and Jack pinning his wrists, leaning down and whispering filthy things in his ear.

Patch lets out a sigh through her nose as her nipples make contact with his chest; he whines at the sensation, pushing himself upwards to seek it out; she just smirks into his mouth and pulls upwards, separating them. A line of saliva connects them, stretching from her lips to his own. (Rhys would normally find it gross, but Patch is leaning over him, flushed and smirking and her eyes are lidded and it feels like he’s about to cum in his pants.)

She scoots down his body a bit, and then there’s a warm mouth on his neck, teeth scraping against his skin. He shudders, opens his eyes, and sees Jack smirking over him. The blue is jarring, and so is the way Jack is already looking at him, eyes lazily trailing

“God, I think you were made for this, sweetheart.” His voice is softer, still sleazy but almost private. It feels dangerously sincere, and Rhys can’t help but stare wide-eyed up at him, eager for more. “Held down and taken apart, its where you fuckin’ belong.”

Rhys feels trapped in the intense gaze, arousal mixing with the shame and embarrassment that he can feel bubbling away inside him. Because this feels way too good, being under Jack, almost-naked, vulnerable and willing to do whatever he asked. At that moment, Patch bites down on the skin between his neck and shoulder, and the white-hot pain is enough to make him moan.

“Wow, Rhys!” Jack sounds absolutely delighted, causing Rhys’ face to burn even hotter with shame. He tries to hide his face in the crook of his arms, but the metal arm pulls further away from him, leaving him on display for Jack and Patch alike. “Should’ve known you were a little masochist. I mean, look at you.”

Rhys shoots Jack a glare, made less effective by the way he shivers under Patch’s mouth.

“Tell her to do it again,” Jack says, clearly enjoying himself. Rhys, still pouting and glaring, shakes his head, hoping that Patch won’t be able to feel it.

Jack leans down, close enough to make Rhys flinch back, breathing heavy. “C’mon, cupcake,” he purrs, and Rhys feels the metal hand press down on his real one, creating a dull ache that grows sharper by the second. “Are you gonna be good for me?”

The wet gasp is an answer enough; Jack grins wolfishly at the other man.

“What, you wanna be my good boy, Rhys? Want me to tell me how pretty you are?

Rhys can’t stop himself from nodding minutely, frazzled from Jack talking to him, and Patch currently sucking a hickey into his chest. He hears Jack chuckle above him, the sound making his heart drop in his chest, torn between being turned on and fearing for his own safety.

“God,” Jack growls, now close enough that Rhys would be able to feel his breath on his face, the rumble of his voice in his chest. “All the things I would do to you if I had my body back. I’d bend you right over my desk and finger you ‘til you cry. I bet you look _real_ pretty when you cry, cupcake. Probably look even prettier with my hands wrapped around your throat.”

“Oh god,” Rhys moans under his breath, feeling hot tears in his eyes, the thought of it almost becoming too much. He hears Jack chuckle next to him, cruel, and Rhys wants more.

Suddenly, he’s a lot colder, and its enough to break through the daze he’s in. He cranes his head forward to see Patch getting off him, wiping her pink mouth off on the back of her hand. She smiles as she admires his chest. He looks down and sees various bitemarks and hickeys forming over his chest and shoulders, hearing Jack whistle at the sight.

“So…” she starts, hooking her thumbs in the waist of her underwear. “You ready for the main event?”

“Yeah,” he agrees immediately, surprised that he’s managed to last this long already. “How do you want me?”

“Um…” She thinks about it for a second, but then hurried slips out of her panties and lies on her back next to him. “Like this!”

He laughs softly at her enthusiasm, going to take his own underwear off and then searching lazily for the condom, squinting when he can’t find it. “Uh.”

“Next to the pillow, stud,” Jack intervenes, being helpful for maybe the first time that evening.

“Right,” Rhys stammers, grabbing the foil packet and tearing it open. “W-Wait,” he protests, blinking at Patch in an attempt to snap out of his reverie. “D’you need to be, like, warmed up first? Cause I could - ”

“Just shut up and bang me,” she cut in, opening her legs as an invitation. Rhys is momentarily dumbstruck, able to do nothing but look at her and imagine how warm and wet and tight she would feel around him.

“Hey,” she murmurs, sitting up on her elbows. Her arm stretches forward, and then her hand is cupping his chin. _Wow. Her eyes are very blue._ “You okay?”

He isn’t able to answer at first, because he isn’t sure if he’s okay. This isn’t how he thought this afternoon would play out, and more than anything he’s confused and isn’t sure if the warmth coursing through his body is because he’s horny or humiliated or if this is just what happens when he’s close to Patch, or if this is Jack’s doing.

But he definitely wants to keep going, so he just nods and smiles, hoping that he looks charming and not goofy. It might work, because Patch laughs and lies back down, opening up her legs and pulling him forward by his shoulder.

Underwear removed, he settles between her thighs, slipping the condom over himself and praying to all the Gods he can think of that he’ll last more than thirty seconds. As an afterthought, he leans forward and places a kiss on her stomach. Patch giggles, Jack gags.

He’s about to ask if she’s sure that she’s ready, but then her legs wrap around his back and start pushing his hips forward.

“Jesus, okay, calm down…”

Her snickers turn to a soft moan as he pushes in slowly, but apparently too slow for Patch. She cants her hips upward and another inch slips in at once, both of them drawing in a sharp breath at the same time.

His eyes flutter closed at the feeling, warm and tight. He had an idea of how it would’ve felt, but this is nothing compared to fingering her. His breath stutters as he sinks further in, leaning over her with one hand. He feels fingers weaving through his hair, pushing sweat-dampened locks away from his forehead, but then cool metal is brushing against his scalp and he realises it’s his own hand. (Or really, it’s Jack’s hand, pushing his hair out of his face and tugging on it gently. The thought makes his heart feel funny.)

“She must be tight, right? Cute little thing like her.”

Jack is in his peripherals, perched close to his shoulder. (If Rhys wasn’t currently in the middle of sex, he might have the brainpower to crack a joke about the devil on his shoulder.) Rhys feels a strange buzzing sensation across his chest, barely there, and looks down to see a blue arm wrapped around his torso, like it was trying to hold him against Jack. His legs grow a bit weaker.

“Move,” Patch murmurs, once he’s buried to the hilt inside of her. “Please…”

“Better give her what she wants, pumpkin.” With that, Rhys falls forward, catching himself with his elbows at the last minute. Patch is so soft against him, and warm, and wet, and it’s so easy to just draw back and then push back in. Her moans spur him on, starting off breathy and then growing more and more desperate. He clutches onto her thighs, raking his fingers downwards, his thrusts stuttering at the whine she lets out.

 “I could fuck you so easy like this, Rhys.”

“Oh, my god,” he cries, partially from the sudden vulgarity, mostly because it almost makes him come right then and there. He knows he’s getting close, and Jack won’t be letting up anytime soon. He drops his head down, forehead resting in the crook of Patch’s neck.

The faint electrical buzzing is right above him; it’s easy to picture Jack on top of him, behind him, holding him down and squeezing his hips and pressing his chest against Rhys’ back and pushing inside him -

“I could just slip right in and you would let me. Hell, you could have the girl too. You’d look real good all fucked-out between the two of us. I’d come in your tight little ass and just stay there, make you take it until she was finished with you.”

“Please,” he moans, desperately wishing that it was real and not just a dirty fantasy. His face is hotter than it’s been all day and he can feel tears pricking his eyes, too much going on around him but he doesn’t want any of it to stop.

“Come on, Rhys, you know you’d love it, the way I would drip out of you and down your legs. Fuck, a needy bitch like you, you’d get addicted to it.”

He whines, hiding his face, but he knows he can’t get away from Jack. Patch’s moans are a constant, filling the room. Her hands come up around his back, scratching at his shoulders, sharp pain that grounds him and drives him even closer to his climax.

“Sound so pretty, baby boy, doing such a good job. You would take me so fucking good, all day long. I could just pin you down and do whatever the fuck I wanted, and you would let me, wouldn’t you?”

Rhys feels himself nod, whimper, and Patch takes that as a cue to keep scratching, her hands clutching at him, one of them moving to clutch a fistful of his hair. He cries out, scraping his teeth against his collarbone, to the delight of Patch who’s growing even more desperate.

“Come on, baby,” Jack murmurs in his ear, “Be a good boy and come for me.”

His orgasm comes suddenly, hips stuttering as he cries out, pressing up into Patch. It floods through his body and the tears break free, clinging to his eyelashes, and all he can do is ride it out.

“Oh God,” breathes Patch, scrabbling for something to hold onto, “oh Rhys, Rhys I’m – “

Her legs squeeze around him and she gets tighter, punching another moan out of him. He’s too sensitive, but she holds onto him and keeps him there and he finds himself moaning at the dull aching pain in his scalp and back.

She goes lax not long after, her legs coming down to rest on the bed instead of locked around his hips, her hands releasing the grip they have on his hair and instead petting his head. His breathing becomes less harsh, heavy but no longer uneven. All he can do is lay on top of her, holding himself up on his elbows and knees to try and keep her from getting crushed under his own weight.

They come down from it together. His flesh arm seems significantly weaker than the metal arm, which would be obvious, but it just reminds him that Jack is still here. That Jack was _always_ here.

His heart sinks at the same time his face grows hotter all over again. Jack was here and he did nothing to stop it. Not only was he a voyeur, but he was actively participating, touching Rhys, touching Patch. He encouraged it, even, got off on it even though it definitely counts as some kind of cheating, or some kind of rape, and even if it does it’s still _fucked_ -

“Woah, can you just relax, kid?”

His eyes grow wide as he covertly tries to seek out Jack, finding him standing, leaning against the headboard of the bed. His arms are crossed over his chest, a smug smirk on his face, the casualness of it enough to anger Rhys.

“Nothing wrong with a bit of harmless fun, right?”

Rhys just drops his head down, praying that when Jack leaves, so will the guilt that currently resides curled up in the bottom of his stomach. He can’t stand to look at him, anyways. He isn’t sure whether he’s pissed with Jack, or just with himself.

He expects a melodramatic sigh, some kind of joke. But he’s met with a long stretch of quiet. Rhys finds himself partially relieved when Jack speaks again.

“I’ll be seeing you around, Rhys.”

He’s stubborn enough to stay resting on Patch for a good ten seconds, but then the silence is enough to make him furrow his brow and lift his head.

He hates that when he finds empty space instead of Jack, he’s disappointed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you have any thoughts or if you want to see more stuff like this, im always happy to write more if i know people are gonna enjoy it!


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